Fandom Fallout New York

[StorytellerLathos]

The Empire Wasteland... A state that was once the glorious economic center of the US now sits as a rusting shell full of irradiated animals with post-war factions fighting over the little resources left behind by those devastated by nuclear holocaust. Though most days are a depressing fight for survival there always comes a little bit of hope when it is announced that newcomers will be arriving to the city, these few days give people the fleeting hope that someone will come to rejuvenate the broken wasteland. Again this short yet strangely peaceful and happy day has come, as people from various factions come together to wait for the new arrivals at East River Outpost. A small caravan moves in with a few people, most are nothing beyond the common traveler, junkie or trader. Those that do stand out barely show promise, of course there's the hand full that actually show some kind of potential but most give little attention believing it's simply a fluke and they'll die within a day.

From the crowd comes a ghoul who introduces himself, "Hey there, you must be the caravan we were expectin. Sorry bout the crowd, it's just what happens when these folks see some newcomers. To be honest its probably the only time they get to be together without killing each other so just act like you belong here and make them happy, if you do you'll be sure to survive. If you're here for work I'm sure someone here or maybe in the outpost ahead has something to offer. Oh and by the way, the name's Peter and I'm the leader of the Big Apple Caravan, largest caravan in... 50 miles? I don't really know..."

Peter turns to the New Yorkers crowded around the caravan, "Okay everyone if you're interested in any of these guys go ahead and chew em out for whatever money they have. Just don't scare them away this time." Peter walks back into the crowd and to the East River Outpost.

 

[Terrick]

Gram had been guarding this caravan for a while now, his rifle resting in his arms as he stayed close. Spitting on the ground, he made sure to make eye contact with everyone, that came close, making sure they were on the level. He looked over to a few of the people that were on the caravan with him, hardly trusting them as well. He wouldn't make a grand speech about how he would shoot the first person that tried to rob or threaten them, that he would make an example out of that person, he only remained silent as he looked around. The old man was a seasoned soldier, seeing some of the worst that the wastes had to offer. Sitting down on a rock, he stripped his Brush gun and did the best he could to clean it, only having a few things on him that could keep his gun clean and ready to fire. The 44 on his hip also showed some ware and tare, showing he has had it for a while.

 

[Lov32write]

Benji Mint pulled the cloth mask from around her face that had kept out the dust and looked around the crowd, running a hand through her short dirty blond hair. The crowds made her nervous. The chance for trouble multiplied exponentially in crowds. She put a hand on the shotgun, that hung on a strap over her shoulder, as if to reassure herself of the small measure of protection.

A soft whine at her right leg caused her to glance down. A tall doberman that almost reached her waist while standing looked up at her while panting heavily. "I know..." She murmured. "I hate the heat too." She bent down and poured some water into her hand from a canteen for her precious companion to lap up before taking a drink herself. "What do we think? Was it worth coming all the way out here? Not that any place is much better than the last." Benji murmured to Mac who simply sat beside her, ears twitching as they took in every sound, nostrils flaring as they recorded every smell. Another higher pitched whine informed her that he smelled food and was hungry. "Soon, Mac. Soon." She patted his head, still looking around.

Benji stepped forward towards one of the older women she saw in the crowd, Mac never straying more than a few inches away. "Where's the safest place to rent a room?" She questioned in a soft voice.

 

[StorytellerLathos]

Gram had been guarding this caravan for a while now, his rifle resting in his arms as he stayed close. Spitting on the ground, he made sure to make eye contact with everyone, that came close, making sure they were on the level. He looked over to a few of the people that were on the caravan with him, hardly trusting them as well. He wouldn't make a grand speech about how he would shoot the first person that tried to rob or threaten them, that he would make an example out of that person, he only remained silent as he looked around. The old man was a seasoned soldier, seeing some of the worst that the wastes had to offer. Sitting down on a rock, he stripped his Brush gun and did the best he could to clean it, only having a few things on him that could keep his gun clean and ready to fire. The 44 on his hip also showed some ware and tare, showing he has had it for a while.

There weren't many that dared mess with Gram, they were more concerned with whoever was a possible customer. Of course there was one man who didn't care about what guns Gram was carrying or how intimidating he wanted to be. "Hello there good sir, you seem to be a decent shooter just based off the guns you keep with you. I have no intention to try and rob you of anything, except your caps of course. You see I have a shop a little while ahead at the East River Outpost, I carry the typical ammo and guns most stores carry but I also have the materials and workbenches needed for modifications. It'd be quite the shame if you didn't come as I'm sure your rusty, used guns could use a touch up at the very least."

Benji Mint pulled the cloth mask from around her face that had kept out the dust and looked around the crowd, running a hand through her short dirty blond hair. The crowds made her nervous. The chance for trouble multiplied exponentially in crowds. She put a hand on the shotgun, that hung on a strap over her shoulder, as if to reassure herself of the small measure of protection.

A soft whine at her right leg caused her to glance down. A tall doberman that almost reached her waist while standing looked up at her while panting heavily. "I know..." She murmured. "I hate the heat too." She bent down and poured some water into her hand from a canteen for her precious companion to lap up before taking a drink herself. "What do we think? Was it worth coming all the way out here? Not that any place is much better than the last." Benji murmured to Mac who simply sat beside her, ears twitching as they took in every sound, nostrils flaring as they recorded every smell. Another higher pitched whine informed her that he smelled food and was hungry. "Soon, Mac. Soon." She patted his head, still looking around.

Benji stepped forward towards one of the older women she saw in the crowd, Mac never straying more than a few inches away. "Where's the safest place to rent a room?" She questioned in a soft voice.

The woman gave Benji a warm smile and responded, "Well I own a place in the outpost up ahead, if you do go there make sure to buy something at the bar and check to see if we carry some of the ammo you may need. I also sell..." The woman continued rambling on about here inventory at here shops and the sales she was having. Any further investigations into what was around seemed to lead into a similar conversation that would then devolve into rambling. These people truly were desperate for new customers and new faces that didn't know any better.

 

[Terrick]

Looking up from his gun, Gram thought this over, this would be a good way for him to get some more ammo, and his magnum could use some minor cleaning, but he was good at that. Standing up, he talked as if his teeth were gritted, his voice gravely and rough, but he was easy to understand. "Magnum rounds, do you have any? Hollow points are preferred." Gram holstered his rifle onto his back and followed the man to his shop, being sure to keep an eye on those around him. Pulling out his magnum, he pulled each bullet out and then handed it to the man. "That gun means a lot to me, I won't be losing it any time soon. Don't damage it when you are cleaning it either."

 

[Lov32write]

"Hmm..." Benji nodded as she listened to the woman then glanced down at the growling Mac whose tail was lowered and followed the point of his nose to the man whom Gram was talking to. She'd seen the older man in the caravan. His shot was some of the best she'd seen. Naturally she'd steered clear of him. But...

She left the chattering woman, cautiously making her way to the storekeeper that was chatting up Gram. The dog growled deeper as they got close. "He's being deceitful...or at least is going to be. Probably about his prices but it could be about something else. Whatever the case, its enough of a deception to alert Mac." Benji warned the older man, patting Mac on the head. She fed him a small piece of jerky from her preciously small stash. Satisfied that his warning was being taken note of, the dog relaxed and sat back on his haunches to enjoy his treat.

Whether or not the man took head of her warning, she didn't much care. But he'd done a good job protecting them on the way here, and now she felt her small debt to him for that was paid.

 

[Octo Girl]

Ashlynn walked through the crowd, her eyebot following her close behind. She used it for storage and to show off her mechanical skills. She also had her Pipboy on her arm as a vault dweller had sold it to her a while back because it didn't work, at least she thought they were a vault dweller. She wore her blue hoodie with torn sleeves at the elbows and a tire armor shoulder pad was on her right shoulder. Her rifle strung across her back. She looked out of place.

Ashlynn had come to buy scrap, electronics, and anything she could get her hands on to keep her business going. She had her hands in the hoodie pockets as she walked. Her eyebot was playing a chime that she had set the music to. "Jeez... so many people.... this is always the case..." She said to herself as she turned the volume down on the eyebot. "These people honestly would give up their children for a shred of hope..." Ashlynn said as she leaned against a wall. "People should know not to count on others to do something they want to need."

 

[Sir Mayday]

Taavi peered through the cracked lens of a worn scope as he quickly surveyed the newcomers from the caravan as they entered the East RIver Outpost. It seemed another caravan has arrived....He clucked his tongue as he saw the townspeople “greet” the newcomers. From here he could already see the greed in their eyes and their eyes roving over the caravan until they came upon them like a pack of starved mole rats. The caravners themselves.....nothing to be concerned about.

Taavi lowered the scope and attached it to his hip, before grabbing the rope attached to the metal sheet that had his pelts strapped to it. He moved the rope over his head and onto his chest and started walking to the outpost with the sound of metal scraping against the rocks followed him.

As Taavi made his way in he got some looks from the cravaners. Yet the townspeople showed only mild interest to him. He had frequented the town for a week now. His mysterious appeal has mostly faded by now thankfully.

As he passed through the crowd, Taavi tool the time to stop and spit on the floor in front of the town gunsmith, who was talking to a woman and a man. Both of no importance to him and he didn’t care where they spent their caps....he just was still a little mad with the gunsmith. He took a time out of his pocket and it dropped to the ground..... Seemed to be the butstock of a rifle.

“Next time you sell me a rifle that gets jammed every time I press the trigger. I will take the remains and shove them down your throat piece by piece.” Taavi said in a low voice before walking away with his pelts to Vicky’s Shop.

The old hag was the most reasonable trader about...he had learned that the hard way.